Three Things
by enigma-kar
Summary: He's never going to famous, he's fatter than he thinks and, most importantly, his boyfriend isn't going to keep wearing those sexy tighty whities! Total crackfic! Coupling script meets Star Trek characters.


**Disclaimer: **I do not own the characters, nor do I own the sections from the Coupling script from 'The End Of The Line'

_This is the reason why you should probably not watch _Coupling _and then start writing _Star Trek _fanfiction, while under the influence of a couple of glasses of wine. You have been warned. Apologies in advance. :P_

_That said - I hope you enjoy. I certainly did enjoy writing it. :)_

**

* * *

Three Things**

"You know what's brilliant about having a boyfriend?" Jim grinned inanely, ignoring the exasperated sighs and eye rolls he received.

"Jim! You've been going out with McCoy for three days!" Sulu exclaimed.

"We've never seen you this happy," Spock agreed; his voice, as always, calm and emotionless.

"Having a boyfriend is like... legalized sex," Jim continued, happily.

"Jim. Sex _is _legal. It always has been legal," Scotty pointed out, after taking a sip of his scotch.

"Well for most of us," Chekov muttered, receiving a sympathetic look from Sulu.

"It's just whenever I have sex with Bones it's just so _realistic!_"

"Yes. It is actually real, Jim," Spock replied.

"I've got my own private ass!" Jim exclaimed, before taking a large mouthful of his whiskey. Truth be told, he was a little tipsy.

"What?"

"Anytime I want to see an ass, I just ask Bones. 'There's nothing to watch tonight, Bones. Why don't you pop your bum out? It's brilliant!'" He grinned around at them all again.

"It's bad enough the Captain's going out with the CMO. I don't want details," Sulu groaned, placing his head in his hands.

"Bones is my CMO, too! Which is great because sometimes we play this game..."

"Keptin, no!" Chekov cut off, much to the relief of the rest of the crew.

"Listen Jim, there are three things all men should know. And it's time you did too," Scotty said somewhat officially and everyone turned to him.

"What?" Jim asked.

"You're never gonna be famous," Scotty began.

"You're fatter than you think," Spock continued and Jim's eyes widened at hearing the Vulcan say that.

"And most important of all... he's not going to keep wearing those sexy tighty whities," Sulu finished.

"No." Jim was adamant. "Bones _always_ wears tighty whities!"

"No really."

"He's always worn them," Jim said. "He always will. In fact, he told me he..."

"Prefers wearing them," Scotty completed the sentence.

"What?"

"The tighty whities will go, Jim. They'll just melt away," Sulu told the captain, much to his surprise.

"No! That's not true!"

"Ok... McCoy's tighty whities..." Scotty said.

"They really tight and really small?" The Vulcan guessed.

"Yeah," Jim nodded, ignoring the fact his science officer had just commented on the size of his boyfriend's underwear. "They're amazing! So tight and... hugging."

"Ha ha ha. Yeah, great aren't they?" Sulu grinned at how naive Jim was.

"God yeah!"

"Ha ha ha," Scotty mock laughed and took another sip of his drink.

"Jim?" The captain turned to Spock.

"Yeah?"

"They spread," Jim's head spun, breakneck fast, to face Sulu.

"What?"

"The tighty whities. They spread," Scotty said with a shrug.

"And grow," Spock continued.

"Experts can determine the age of a relationship from tighty whitie spreadage alone," Sulu said, completely seriously.

"You start off with those tight, hugging pants," Scotty said.

"And one day you're looking at the making of a decent sized trampoline," Sulu finished.

"No! It's not gonna be like that with me and Bones," Jim protested.

No one replied, as their captain glances around at them all his eyes wide with fear. Slowly, as one they all raised a skeptical eyebrow (it should be noted that, although impressive, their combined eyebrow power did nothing to rival McCoy's). However it must have dawned on him, because Jim's face suddenly fell and there was a thud as his head connected with the wooden table.

* ~ XX ~ *

"Jim?" McCoy looked up as his lover walked into their shared quarters. The captain had clearly been drinking and looked somewhat weary.

"Bones?"

"Hey, I'm here Jim." And McCoy stood to help Jim stumble into the room. Together they made their way to the bed and sat on the edge side by side. A year ago, McCoy would have scolded Jim for drinking, but he now knew that the scolding did little to improve his behaviour.

"Bones? Can you... promise me... can you promise to keep...?"

"What Jim?"

"Promise me you'll keep ww...w.."

"I'll promise anything, Jim," McCoy assured him and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

"Anything?"

"Yeah."

"No... I don't want anything... I just want you... you to promise me you'll always keep wearing your... sexy tighty whitie underwear? Please Bones? I love you in them and they... they said you'd stop wearing them... and I don't want you to stop. I don't want a trampoline. Keep wearing your hot underwear, Bones. Please."

Jim was sounding so genuinely worried and so upset about such a novel problem that McCoy found it hard not to laugh. The fearless captain of the USS Enterprise was terrified that his boyfriend of three days would stop wearing hot underwear.

"Don't worry, Jim," McCoy couldn't keep the humour out of his voice. Not that it mattered; Jim wasn't in any state to distinguish emotions in ones voice. "I promise."

"Really?" Jim looked up at him with big, innocent eyes.

"Really, Jim." This would never get old.

The captain nodded and relaxed a little. The next time he looked up, McCoy pressed a kiss lightly against his lips.

Pulling back, Jim frowned. "You wearing those hot... sexy tighty whities at the moment?"

McCoy grinned. "You don't even have to ask, darlin'," he drawled.


End file.
